


Maturation's Matriculation

by slr2moons



Category: Claymore
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slr2moons/pseuds/slr2moons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raki promised he would protect Clare, yet whenever he tries he only seems to makes things worse. But maybe the problem isn’t his lack of strength; maybe it’s something else completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set at some point between _The Slashers_ and _The Endless Gravestones_ story arcs. It is based on NA English licensed manga canon. This is a work of fanfiction and has nothing official to do with the licensed version of this anime and manga in any way whatsoever.

Galk raised his sword high. Beneath him, Clare knelt on the Baptismal Room floor. Her hands tightly clenched the hilt of her sword, and her entire body shook with the force of the yoma energy that rampaged unchecked through her.

With a desperate scream, Raki ran towards them. Galk twisted, bringing his sword down in an inescapable arc that severed Clare’s head from her body in one flawless strike. Sobbing, Raki tripped and fell forward onto the stone floor. Her head rolled to a stop in front of him. As he stared in horror, the yoma power that had ravaged her began to dissipate. The veins that crackled her skin vanished, her mouth smoothed, and her face relaxed into an expression of peace.

Clare had died the way she wanted, still human.

Raki bolted upright with a gasp. He shivered, his sweat-soaked body chilled by the night air. The campfire had burned down to embers, leaving only the pale stars to illuminate their rocky campground. He hugged himself, glanced around in the dim light, and saw Clare had yet to return.

Raki hated that dream. The thought that he couldn’t reach her in time, that he couldn’t save her from her monstrous yoma power...that he would be left alone once more. He swallowed and set a fat branch on the fire, then poked a twisted cord of dry grass and some smaller sticks beneath it. The boy blew on the fire a few times to help the grass and wood catch. He sat back and pulled his blanket closer around him.

He had not intended to fall asleep. Raki preferred to wait for Clare to return to the camp after she briefly vanished, as she always did upon completion of a mission. He wanted to see her step back into their circle of light. He had told her the reason he usually waited was that he liked to know their next destination before he went to sleep...but he suspected she knew the truth.

He needed to know she was still with him.

As if responding to his unspoken need, Clare reappeared as silently as she had left. She folded her legs, sat on her blanket, and resumed her normal position of leaning back against her sword, which was impaled into the ground. Her pale skin and hair glowed in the campfire’s warm light, her expression thoughtful.

Raki drank in the sight of her. No veins crawled over her skin, no sharp teeth inside a jagged mouth...and her eyes were the same pure silver as always. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was still Clare.

At the sound of his sigh, Clare looked up. “Rennal, a village two days north of here. We face a trio this time.”

“Oh. Will you have help? Since there are three?”

“No. Help was offered, but I refused. I can handle this alone.” She settled herself more securely back against her sword, then crossed her arms and closed her eyes. “Good night, Raki.”

“Good night, Clare.”

He stretched out on the ground inside his blankets, his eyes resting on her. ‘We face a pair’, she had said. But then it had been, ‘I can handle this alone.’ He closed his eyes in resignation. Fat lot of good he could do for Clare. No doubt in three days, he’d be standing on the side of the street, helpfully watching while she cut the yoma down. He scowled at himself. So much for his promise to Sid. It had been months since they had left Rabona, and he hadn’t done a single thing to become stronger. He hadn't been able to protect Clare at all.

The Rabona sword Galk had given him still lay wrapped in cloth inside his pack, along with the pair of long knives Clare had used in the city. But Raki didn’t want to ask Clare to teach him the basics of swordplay, nor how to use the knives. He wanted to learn on his own...to surprise her with his skill. But the one time he had tried to help her with the sword, running into the fight between her and a particularly nasty yoma, she had yelled at him to get out of the way, and finally kicked him aside as she ran to deliver the killing blow.

He didn’t like that she would be facing a trio of yoma alone in three days. She would probably have to call upon her yoma power to complete the mission. And he would never forget the day he learned about the price of that power: that every time a warrior used it, she came one step closer to becoming a full yoma herself. That had almost happened to Clare in Rabona. But if he tried to help her so she wouldn’t need to use it...he knew he would only interfere in her mission again. Or worse, maybe he’d be taken hostage by the yoma. This time, Clare might actually let him be killed. Indeed, that seemed to be the only way he _could_ help her...by no longer being a problem.

With a bitter, self-depreciating curse, he rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

.oOo.

They left before the sun crept above the horizon, when everything was still cast in the soft, cool light of pre-dawn. Aside from the minimal amount of talk needed for breaking camp, Raki barely spoke, and he definitely did not bounce around with his usual energy.

Clare took a long look at him as they set out, and he managed to give her a faint smile of reassurance. She raised one eyebrow, then turned to lead the way to Rennal.

Plainly, she was letting him brood, and for that he was grateful. He didn’t _want_ her to try to cheer him up. What could she say to improve things, anyway? Clare always did all the work and took on all the danger. She didn’t really need him to cook for her, either. In fact, the only way he could help her was to keep her company, and now he was failing at even that. Damn.

He followed her morosely, extending his stride just enough for him to place his footsteps in hers. He liked to think it wasn’t as much of a stretch as it had been the first time he tried it, but he doubted he’d grown enough to make any real difference. Not that being any bigger would benefit Clare. It would only mean he’d make a larger meal for some yoma.

With a scowl, he stopped matching Clare’s footprints and trudged after her at his own pace. If he were bigger _and_ had figured out a way to really help her, then maybe she wouldn’t have to use her yoma power when she fought. Every day she didn’t invoke it was another day she would remain Clare.

He _had_ to figure out a way to help her. Each time he watched her slay a yoma, he noticed something new in her technique. An unexpected twist to her sword swing, a change of stance that gave her better leverage...he had tried them himself once, when Clare was away receiving her new orders. The Rabona sword had been heavy and ungainly in his hands. He’d almost tripped and come within a hairsbreadth of slicing himself with the blade. But if he could keep studying her battles, perhaps he could finally hope to emulate her style.

Raki pressed his lips together, deep in thought, then broke their journey’s silence. “Clare...”

“Yes?”

“Last month when you left me in that village north of the Paburo Mountains, when you went with Miria and the other two to fight that Voracious Eater...” Raki rubbed the back of his head with his hand. He stared at the ground. “Are you going to do that again?”

“Not this time.”

He cautiously lifted his gaze. “But why did you leave me then? Alone, for a week? I mean...” he trailed off, knowing that watching Clare fight was only an excuse. Almost in a whisper, he added, “What if you hadn’t come back?”

“You had all of our beras. They would have been more than enough money to get you to Rabona.”

Raki jolted to a stop, and his frustration and anxiety suddenly flared up into anger. He ran forward and whirled around in front of Clare, forcing her to halt. She stared down at him in surprise.

“That’s not what I mean! I don’t care about the money, I care about _you!”_

She blinked. “I know that, Raki.”

“Then why did you leave me there?! All I could do was stare at those mountains and wonder if you would ever come back! Wonder if I’d be left alone again! I’m _always_ with you when you fight yoma, so why did you leave me behind?!” With one hand, he swiped at the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. “I know better now. I know not to get in the way!”

Clare’s face softened. “Do you remember what I told you about Voracious Eaters? They’re very strong and very intelligent. An incredibly dangerous combination.”

Raki sniffled and wiped his face again. He made a noise of assent.

“Then you also know that’s why there is always a _team_ of warriors sent after them. Raki....” She waited to say more until he slowly looked up to meet her eyes.

“I left you behind because I care about you.”

His eyes widened.

“I needed all my concentration and strength to face that Voracious Eater. I didn’t dare bring you along because I would have worried about your safety. That would have distracted me from the mission, which could have meant my life and the lives of my comrades.”

With a soft gasp, Raki remembered how Clare had looked when she’d returned from the battle. Three bloodstained holes had been in her shirt, and a fourth hole in the left thigh of her leggings. She’d been filthy with bloody dirt, mentally and physically exhausted, but most importantly, she had been alive.

Raki silently met her gaze. He could not argue with that. But...she said she cared about him. It was those words, rather than any assurances or logic, which made him nod his understanding and resume their journey north, deep in thought once again.

.oOo.

Clare and Raki stepped through the gate in the low stone wall that surrounded Rennal. They entered the village and strode down the center street, sending townspeople scuttling aside in shock, all of them gaping in the standard reaction to Clare’s presence.

Raki looked about him, taking in the sights and smells of civilization. This village seemed newer and cleaner than the norm. He studied the buildings as they passed. They were constructed out of wood and stone, but their faces were fresh. Even the slightly older structures had a bright coat of whitewash and steps scrubbed clean. A minimal amount of trash and junk was visible, and he couldn’t see even one cracked windowpane.

“This village has money, Clare.”

“Yes.”

“Do you sense the yoma?”

She carefully studied a group of people as the pair passed. The villagers shrank back from her gaze, and one child clung to his father’s leg, looked at all the frightened adults around him, and began crying. The people murmured among themselves.

Clare faced forward again. “They are somewhere nearby. But...” she frowned, and Raki looked at her curiously.

“But what?”

She lifted her face. “I’m not--“

 _“So you’re finally here!”_

The loud voice made them both jump. They looked down the street to see a small group of men standing in front of a large, almost gaudy building that loomed over the town square. One of the men stepped forward, a very cocky smile upon his face. Raki took one look at him and felt an instant surge of dislike. The man was tall, well built, and walked with a definite swagger. His long hair seemed perfectly styled, and his clothes were covered with embroidery. His crisp white shirt hung halfway open to reveal a solid chest marked with a long knife-blade scar.

Raki's hands twitched with the effort it took to keep them from balling up into fists.

The man stopped a few paces away from them. He smirked down at Clare, his gaze evaluating the length of her body. “You’re the little slip of a girl who’s going to save my village? I expected you to at least have some muscle.”

His tone made Raki’s lip curl. _This_ was the village chief?

The other men moved up to flank him on either side, almost encircling the smaller pair. They all leered down at Clare with varying degrees of dark humor and lust. One nudged the man next to him and grinned at Raki.

Raki let his hands clench, but forced the rest of his body to remain still. As much as he hated cocky bastards, a cocky bastard with goons was even worse. Sid had turned out to be all right, even if he _had_ kissed Clare, but this group made Raki fervently wish he knew how to use his sword.

The village chief leaned over Clare, who stood her ground and did not react. The large man snorted. “I’m paying a shitload of beras for _you?”_

“I was the closest warrior,” she answered calmly. “If I die, there will be no need to pay.”

He jerked his head at Raki. “What’s with the brat?”

Raki bit back a snarl and glared at him silently.

Again, Clare replied in a quiet voice, “He is with me, and is no concern of yours.”

The man straightened and coldly stared down at Raki. “Don’t get in the way, little man. I’m not going to lose another villager because some snot-nosed boy-toy tripped up my teensy Claymore wench.”

Raki’s control snapped. He raised his fists and leaped forward, but Clare stopped him with one hand on his shirt collar. She effortlessly hurled him backward, sending him flying to land with a painful _wham_ on his back some distance away.

The chieftain and his men laughed uproariously. “Oooooh, he’s a feisty little man, isn’t he? I think he did something naughty!” The men continued guffawing while the village chief dismissed Raki to address Clare once more.

“The yoma are hiding in the forest beyond the fields east of town. They like to pick off victims as my villagers work in the fields and the mines. Frightened villagers make for a bad harvest of grain and gold. I need both to keep my village sound.” He raised his chin. “Kill those yoma immediately, and then I’ll pay you.”

Clare pivoted on one foot and began to walk east. “A man in black will come for the money. You will give it to him then.”

Raki scrambled from the ground, snatched up his pack, and ran to catch up, his gait uneven. He heard more barks of laughter in his wake.

“Clare, I--“

She stopped walking and froze him with an unwavering stare.

His excuses died on his tongue, and Raki’s heart shrank inside his chest. “I’m sorry, Clare.”

She looked at him a moment more, then resumed her march.

Raki’s gaze dropped to the ground in humiliation. His immature and misguided attempt to defend them both had almost interfered with her mission. He had failed again.

.oOo,

 _(completed 9-23-07, last tweaked 11-10-07)_


	2. Chapter 2

Clare stepped out of the gate in the eastern reach of the town wall and paused in the middle of the road. Several paces behind, Raki stopped. She studied the land around them, then frowned a second time. Wondering what she sensed, Raki looked over the landscape as well.

On either side, the village’s large fields stretched across the gently rolling land. The crops seemed healthy and meticulously kept, the rows of vegetables even and free from choking grass and weeds. Raki had never seen village fields so expansive yet so well maintained. Something of this magnitude required careful planning and a great deal of teamwork. His nose wrinkled in distaste, the boy grudgingly admitted that this chief apparently really did care about his village’s people and was good at his job...though he was still a cocky bastard.

Raki’s eyes left the even rows of plants to find the forest beyond. It began at the very edge of the cultivated land, and the trees extended back to cover the hills that rose on the horizon. Raki could see the trees were tall, with wide trunks and a thick canopy overhead. That made him frown. The canopy meant a minimum of underbrush, but tall, old trees would be filled with strong branches that yoma could easily use for ambush and jumping attacks. If this battle happened in the forest, it probably would not remain on the ground. And that meant Clare would be even more likely to invoke her yoma power to fight.

Raki silently watched her profile. She seemed deep in thought and slightly frustrated. The only time he had ever seen her this uncertain about what she sensed was back in Rabona, when she had been using those pills that dampened her yoma power. If she was doubtful now--without the pills--then something was definitely not normal about this mission’s target. Raki tried to find the courage to disrupt her concentration and ask, but before he could, she began to walk again.

He followed her at a cautious distance off the road into the fields that stretched to the base of the forest. She kept to the clear track between two rows of healthy vegetables. Her pace, hesitant at first, increased in speed and confidence until she strode forward with her usual pre-battle determination. Her sword where it hung from her armor cheerfully clinked in time with her steps, as if dancing with anticipation for blood.

She continuously scanned the forest’s edge, her eyes darting from place to place across the slowly approaching span of trees. Raki knew she was searching with all her yoma senses to resolve whatever mystery she had found. The pressure of not knowing built inside him until he finally couldn’t stand it.

“Clare, what’s wrong with these yoma?”

She answered after a slight pause. “It’s only one of the three that’s strange.”

Raki waited impatiently, but she did not elaborate. He fought the urge to ask again and looked away from her to the forest, scanning it himself. A bright gleam of metal in the sunlight between him and the trees caught his attention. Slowing his walk, he squinted and shaded his eyes against the glare to examine the distant ground. The even rows of vegetables and soil were disturbed in a wide area around the metal object, and the earth was dark, as if freshly turned.

“Hey, Clare!”

About ten paces ahead of him, she halted and moved just enough to look back at him over one shoulder.

“I think that’s a scene of a yoma attack, over there. Where that metal is shining and the rows are all messed up.” He pointed towards it. “Maybe it will help you figure out what’s weird about that yoma.”

She blinked and glanced over to where he pointed. She studied the area for a moment, then gave the forest ahead of her another searching look. Her frown returned. Then she left their current track to cut across the rows of vegetables. “Good idea, Raki.”

He quickly trotted after her, expressing his joy with an extra-large bound over a lush row of plants. He caught up with her as she slowed near the disturbance in the field. He heard her sniff.

“You’re right. I smell human blood.” She carefully examined the ground before her, then stepped out into the mess. “Stay where you are, Raki.”

With a noise of assent, Raki shifted his grip on his pack and watched Clare examine the scene by first walking around the perimeter, then moving inward in a careful spiral. Her eyes scanned the ground, lips pursed. The rows had been badly scarred by yoma claws and feet, which had cut through soil in great swipes. Uprooted plants lay scattered about, wilted in the sun. Raki could see where the villagers had walked through the mess to retrieve what was left of the victim’s body. Obviously they had not stayed to clean up anything else. Not even to pick up the unfortunate farmer’s still-new hoe, which was what Raki had seen glinting in the sunlight.

Flies buzzed on what must have been the victim’s final resting place. They rose in a black cloud around Clare when she crouched for a closer look.

“The yoma pack chased the man and caught him here, but after feeding they calmly returned to the forest. I see three sets of footprints that head to the trees. But here...where they ate...” She met Raki’s gaze and motioned him to join her with a small nod of her head.

Delighted to be included, he almost ran to her side. He flapped a hand at the flies that swarmed around him and crouched next to Clare.

She pointed at the ground. “What do you see?”

Raki carefully studied the place she had indicated. This close, even he could smell the bits of rotting flesh that were left on the ground. He waved his hand to shoo away more flies for a clearer view and cocked his head. “I see small footprints mixed with the normal-sized ones. Small like a kid...but long and narrow, with clawed toes.” He lifted his gaze to meet Clare’s silver eyes. “A fourth yoma! A small one!”

“Yes.” She straightened and looked towards the trees.

“But you said only three sets of footprints led back to the forest, and that’s all the villagers reported.”

“Again, yes. But maybe the villagers have not seen this small yoma. Or at least, none who have lived to tell.”

Raki stood as well, then thoughtfully picked up the hoe. He examined the new blade on the end. No surprise that the villagers had left it. Normal people were so superstitious about yoma attacks...as he well knew. They probably feared the hoe was cursed, or acted as a yoma lure, or something else completely stupid. He shouldered the implement and continued to watch Clare.

She hadn’t moved, not even to resume scanning the long line of trees that stretched out before them. Raki could see new tension in her face and body. Her eyes were locked on one place in the forest and seemed especially sharp.

“They know we’re here. Right?”

Clare answered with a slight nod. Her eyes narrowed. “I still only sense the three. Two that are normal, and one that is definitely not.” She shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet. “And they are spreading out.”

Raki flicked his eyes away from Clare and back to the forest. His heart began to pound inside his chest with the excitement and slight twinge of fear he always felt in the suspense before Clare began a battle. His fists clenched on his shouldered pack’s strap and the hoe. He heard Clare softly speak, her voice laced with tension and the faintest trace of a smile.

“I don’t feel like waiting today.”

With that, she exploded from the ground in one gigantic leap towards the trees. Her sword sang through the air as she drew it from her armor. Two yoma charged out from their positions on the forest’s edge and bounded directly for her.

 _“Bwee hee hee! We were waitin’ for ya!”_ the largest one squealed. In mid-jump, he threw forth his arm and shot his clawed fingers at Clare in a blur of motion. She effortlessly dodged the attack with a running whirl that cleaved half his arm from his body and lopped a leg from the second yoma. Both monsters yowled in anger. The second one fell to the ground, and Clare took his head as she skipped under a second tentacle-attack from the larger yoma.

“We have something fer you, girl!” he howled. “Been savin’ it _special!”_

Raki watched while Clare easily dodged again and sliced the yoma’s remaining arm lengthwise, removing a good chunk of shoulder as well.

The monster staggered backwards, blood pouring from his wounds. His face cracked into an insane smile as Clare jumped up buried her sword in the top of his head. “You just wait, chicky! You’ll see...” The words bubbled out of his mouth in a final gush of dark blood, and his corpse slid down Clare’s blade until it collapsed into a gory mass on the soil.

Raki blinked at the sudden end of the fight and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. He eyed the two fallen monsters with a doubtful expression. “These yoma are kinda....pathetic.”

Clare lifted her sword free of the corpse and swung it twice to fling of the blood.

“But Clare...where are the other two?” he called to her.

She looked over at him and parted her lips to speak when blood-curdling female laughter suddenly split the air around him. _“I agree with you, boy! My thanks for ridding me of them.”_

Raki jolted in shock and whirled from side-to-side, trying to voice’s source. Yet the fields were empty of everyone but Clare and him.

 _“RAKI!”_

He whirled to face Clare and saw her eyes flash gold as the soil beneath his feet exploded. The force hurled him up and sent his pack flying from his shoulder. A tentacle shot out from the cloud of dirt and plants to pluck him from the air before he could slam back into the ground. He dangled from its iron grip around his left thigh, his arms swinging with the motion, the hoe still desperately clutched in his right hand. Coughing in the clouds of debris and dizzy from his flight, Raki felt himself sway through the air as the third yoma regally emerged from beneath the field. Through the settling dirt, Raki could see this one was a bit smaller than a regular yoma, and it was using a rare female form. The tentacle that held him aloft was the creature’s extended entire right arm. She lifted him closer to her face, and Raki’s heart froze.

Her eyes did not hold that hungry, wild gleam Raki always could see in yoma eyes. No, these eyes were calm, amused, and completely sane. Dimly, as if from another world, he heard Clare streaking towards them.

The yoma turned him in the air for a complete assessment. “My, aren’t you a cute one?” She smiled, the horrid beauty of her face emphasized by a mouthful of fangs.

Raki gulped and yelled in shock when he was suddenly yanked through the air as the yoma whirled in place. With her other hand, she slammed the charging Clare in the back, using the warrior’s own speed to send her flying. Clare hit the ground hard thirty paces away.

“Not now, little sister.” The yoma moved Raki back in front of her face. “I want some time to appreciate my precious catch.”

Raki twisted in her grip and almost dropped the hoe. He craned about and caught a glimpse of Clare, who had climbed to her feet. One of her shoulder guards had been severely dented by the landing, and she unfastened the armor and let it drop to the ground. She gripped her sword and charged again, teeth bared and eyes bright.

The boy knew she couldn’t fight properly with him in the way as hostage. He had to escape on his own! Every second the battle extended was another second Clare had to use her yoma power. Raki would _never_ let himself be the reason Clare lost her humanity again.

He swung the hoe at the yoma, who tutted, moved him out of reach, and shook him. “None of that, sweetling! I need to concentrate on your friend.”

Reeling and nauseous from the chastising shake, Raki clutched the hoe to his chest. He knew the implement was his only chance. From the corner of his eye, he saw the yoma reach down with her free hand and withdraw a handful of slimy yoma-colored flesh from her own body. A few strands of goo stretched from the object back to her skin. The yoma’s face split in an affectionate smile as she held up the quivering mass.

“Keep her busy, hmm?” she told it. And with that, she flung the thing at Clare.

The small lump of flesh uncurled in mid-air with an audible _snap_ and landed on all fours in Clare’s path. When its gold eyes caught the light, Raki suddenly realized it was not a simple hank of flesh.

 _“That’s the fourth yoma, Clare!”_ he screamed.

She leaped over the creature, her sword singing through he air towards the monster that held Raki, but the tiny yoma jumped up and slashed the back of her thigh, slicing through leggings and skin. Clare gasped and lost her form. She staggered upon landing, and Raki’s captor gracefully moved herself and the boy away.

“Best look out, sister. My little baby is quite fast.”

She spoke the truth. Terrified, Raki saw the tiny yoma dart forward at Clare, almost flying across the ground on all fours with horrific speed. The size of its footprints at the attack scene had been misleading, it was even smaller than he and Clare had thought--barely tall enough to reach her knees. Low to the ground and incredibly fast, changing directions with no warning, it charged and slashed at Clare again and again. She leaped, jumped, and tried to strike the yoma. Her giant sword, capable of chopping a full-sized creature in half, was simply too big for this enemy.

Wide-eyed and trembling, Raki could see blood spreading across Clare’s shirt and leggings in the small moments he could glimpse her while she darted about and tried to fight. The tiny yoma kept pushing and luring her away from the boy and his captor, striking with gashing blows that seemed instantaneous. Clare’s eyes flashed gold again, and Raki knew she was calling for more speed. But with that oversized sword, more speed would do little to improve her chances. If only she had a smaller blade!

Raki suddenly gasped. _Of course!_

“I say, child....” The yoma swung him through the air again, cutting off his moment of inspiration as she brought the boy close to her face and delicately sniffed. “You smell particularly delicious.” Moist breath scented with rotted flesh caressed his ear. Her tongue licked his bare stomach where gravity had pooled his shirt down around his shoulders.

Raki felt so much frustration at the interruption of his thoughts that he barely noted the yoma’s disgustingly sweet breath and hot tongue on his skin. He twisted around desperately, trying to catch a another glimpse of Clare, not noticing the yoma’s huff of annoyance.

 _“Clare!”_ he finally screamed out blindly. He gulped in more air. _“The knives!”_

The yoma brought him closer for another taste. He writhed again in her grasp, his arms and the hoe flailing wildly. The hoe’s sharp blade glanced across her face and left a thin slice across her skin.

“Ow!” She jerked, and the motion snapped Raki through the air like the end of a whip. The pain made him gasp.

“Sweetling, I can’t believe you bit me!” The yoma shook him in punishment again and reached for the hoe with her other hand. Raki fought against his muddled brain and managed to keep the hoe away from her grasp, all the while frantically listening to the sounds of Clare fighting the tiny yoma with her bulky sword.

He avoided the increasingly irked yoma and yelled out again, _“The knives! The ones you had in Rabona! They’re in my pack!”_ He feinted another strike at her face and changed the direction of his attack. Raki used his entire body to bury the hoe’s blade in the tentacle that held him aloft.

The yoma shrieked and dropped him.

He didn’t have far to fall, but it still knocked the breath out of him. He gasped for air and rolled onto his back. The hoe’s handle had snapped in two from the impact.

Sunlight suddenly vanished from around him. Slowly, Raki’s eyes focused on the yoma, who loomed above. She was absolutely livid.

 _“Shame on you, boy!”_ Her right arm shot through the air toward him as he tried to scramble away. A white and red blur flashed between them, and the arm fell to the ground with a wet _plop._ The yoma shrieked again.

Grasping a long and bloodied knife in each hand, Clare stood over him. Her top and leggings were slashed to ribbons and covered with blood, and even the sword brace on her back and her plated armor skirt bore scratches. She was panting for air, and her legs trembled, but she was still Clare. Kind, strong, beautiful Clare.

Raki fought back tears.

The yoma recoiled in shock. _“You!!_ My child should have ripped you to shreds!”

Raki saw the curve of Clare’s cheek lift up in a cold smile.

Howling, the yoma swiped with her wounded arm at Clare. The warrior darted aside, shot around behind her, and jumped up to cut through the yoma’s neck in a double backhanded slice. The yoma stood for a moment, a surprised look upon her face, then toppled to the ground in a fountain of dark blood that sprayed them both.

“Clare!” Raki cried out. The boy scrambled up from the ground, ignoring his bruised and tired muscles. He hobbled to her as quickly as he could.

She smiled at him, still panting.

He stopped in front of her, his hands clenched into fists. His eyes swam with unshed tears and he was covered in filth, yet he couldn’t care less

“You heard me. About the knives.”

Clare nodded. “Yes. I cut open your pack as I ran by, and there they were, among our things.” She paused for a breath. ”I had just enough time to snatch them from their sheaths when that tiny yoma charged me for the last time.”

She moved the second knife to her left hand and pulled Raki in for a one-armed hug. He dropped the hoe and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face against her chest, seeking comfort in her presence like a scared little kid.

“I had completely forgotten about those knives,” she quietly told him.

He choked back a sob and hugged her tighter. He felt Clare’s hand move up from his back to run her fingers through his grimy hair.

“You really did help me, Raki. Thank you.”

The tears finally broke free, and they mingled with the blood on Clare’s breast.

.oOo.

For the second time that day, the villagers murmured and milled uncertainly as Clare and Raki walked down the main street of Rennal. Clare wore Raki’s spare shirt and pants, the clean clothing bathed red in the glow of sunset. She carried her Claymore sword, and Raki had fabricated a makeshift pack using his blanket. He had tried to clean off as much blood and dirt from himself as he could, but he was still filthy.

The village chief met them in the town square once more. He gave them both an appraising look. Raki’s borrowed clothes covered the worst of Clare’s injuries, but slashes on her lower legs and arms were still visible. As for Raki...not only was he streaked with drying bloody mud, he also walked with a distinctive limp and knew a parade of bruises were developing across his entire body.

The chief raised an eyebrow at the comparatively hale--if disgustingly dirty--Raki and addressed Clare. “Well?” he demanded shortly.

“The yoma are dead.”

He made a noise of assent. “Good. Since you don’t want our money, you can rest at the village inn, over there. My treat.” He waved at one of the large, ornate buildings across the square. “I suggest you make use of the complementary bath.”

Clare nodded at him and began to lead the way to the inn. “Thank you. A man in black will come for the money. Give it to him then.”

“Yes, you mentioned that before.”

Raki moved to follow Clare, but a word from the chief stopped him.

“Hey, boy.”

He looked over his shoulder.

The man gestured with his chin at the departing woman. “You may be filthy, but she looks awful. I was under the impression that you wanted to help her.”

Raki blinked and thought for a moment. “I did help her.”

With a snort, the chief commented, “You did a pretty piss-poor job of it, then.”

“I suppose.” He looked towards the hotel again, where Clare had already vanished inside. “But we are still alive.” With that, he walked away from the chief.

Behind him, he heard the man humph and shout orders to his goons.

The boy climbed the steps to the hotel entrance, his mind thoughtful. More importantly than still being alive, Clare was still Clare. She had not needed to invoke too much of her yoma power in this fight, thanks to his realization about the knives and freeing himself from the yoma. And of course, thanks to that stupid hoe.

He smiled at Clare, who had waited for him at the base of the staircase inside the hotel’s lobby. They walked side-by-side up to their room.

That hoe had hardly been his Rabona sword, but it _had_ done the job. He really had helped her. He had made a difference for the good in this battle...even if it hadn’t been a very suave or manly effort. And though Clare had saved him in the end, he now knew that one day, he _would_ be able to save her. To really save her, to fight against a yoma and truly protect her, as he had promised Sid.

He knew he possessed the courage, today had proven that. All he needed to do was learn to use his sword. One day...hopefully soon.

 __

(completed 11-10-07, last tweaked 11-13-07)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foreshadowing FTW. I definitely like writing stories that can exist in canon. Oh, and writing cheesy yoma dialogue is a blast, I kinda wish I hadn’t killed them off so quickly. I like my villainess, too!! But oh well, they were the sacrifices to end angsty!Raki. Hope you enjoyed my story, especially since it contains my first fight scene. I’d love to write a second Clay fic since this one was so much fun--and challenging, too!


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